


a dream come true

by Nat_b_please



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: (And talking about murder but nobody dies), Based on a Tumblr Post, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugging, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Rated For Violence, Tagging this as / and & because it’s platonic if you squint, They both might be a little ooc?? They’re both very emotionally vulnerable just go with it, Touch-Starved, im bad at present tense, post Soul of the People part 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 14:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17469164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nat_b_please/pseuds/Nat_b_please
Summary: Peter has dreamt about Juno before, but this was new.





	a dream come true

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this Tumblr post: http://foxglovefemme.tumblr.com/post/179296101165/i-know-all-of-us-on-tumbeler-dot-com-are-big-fans
> 
> My second fic on here! I’ve written for tpp before, but nothing I was confident enough about to post. (I’m trying to post things even if I’m not 110% in love with it.) It’s 12:45am right now, so if there are any grammar mistakes please tell me. Constructive criticism is also super appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Peter has dreamt about Juno before. He’d be reviewing some floor plans or spacing out on a long spaceship ride, he’d close his eyes for a second, and suddenly he’s snuggled close to the detective on a familiar old couch or laughing with him over some inside joke. Even a master like Peter can’t push away thoughts when he’s unconscious, much to his annoyance.

This is a new one.

Peter’s day wasn’t going well in the first place. Somehow, Miranda and her team had gotten wind of his plan. Instead of an unlocked side door like his employer had promised, he was greeted at the gallery with five blasters pointed at his head.

At some point during the “interrogation” (the question to let’s-beat-him-up ratio was unprofessional at best), after receiving a very unattractive black eye and some matching bruises, Peter must’ve somehow fallen asleep.

It’s frankly ridiculous that his brain decided to shut down at such an inopportune time for a fantasy about Juno, of all things.

(The fact that his unconscious state did nothing to mute the soreness in his whole body was plain unfair.)

“One way or another, we’ll get what we need,” the burly man staring him down says, “even if we have to pull it out of your corpse’s brain.”

Peter opens his mouth to explain how basic anatomy works but is interrupted by a familiar figure kicking down the door.

“Not gonna happen, bud,” Juno says, cocking his blaster.

He looks good, Peter thinks idly. His head is tilted to get a better aim since he’s only working with one eye. His left arm is stiff, every movement careful and slow, probably from a newly-healed injury. The bandages that crossed his face were replaced with an eyepatch. His tight curls are messy, but have clearly seen a little more attention recently.

What stood out most to Peter is how he holds himself. He no longer drowns in his jacket, shoulders squared protectively but confidently. His eye flickers around the room, counting threats. It gets caught on Peter more than a few times, filled with an emotion Peter could only describe as _warm_.

That, more than anything else, tips Peter off that he's dreaming.

In one swift motion, the man closest to Peter pulls out a knife ( _Peter’s_ knife, thank you very much) and throws it at Juno.

Juno dodges and shoots in retaliation. The first shot goes wide, but the second hits him squarely in the chest. Before the other guard in the room can react or draw her weapon, Juno rushes her and knocks her out with the butt of his blaster.

Breathing heavily, Juno turns his attention to Peter.

“Impeccable timing as always, Detective,” Peter says. That’s all he could say before Juno kneels down to his eye level and his vocal chords decide to stop working. Juno’s hands flutter, like he was going to touch Peter’s face but changed his mind. (A small part of him can’t help but feel disappointed.) His face is filled with worry and care and guilt and _love_ and-

“Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you? Well-“ Juno takes in Peter’s face and there’s a brief flash of anger. “More seriously than...”

“I’m more than okay,” Peter says breathlessly. He might’ve been embarrassed to be so flustered in real life, but this is his own dream, damn it, he can be as sappy as he wants to. “I had my doubts at first, but this is-“ Peter clears his throat. “However, I would love to have my hands back,” he comments, pulling slightly on the rope binding his hands behind him for emphasis.

“Oh! Yeah. Probably should’ve thought of that first, huh?” Juno smiles sheepishly and grabs Peter’s knife from where it fell to the floor. He starts to saw at the rope, being careful to avoid touching Peter. (He appreciates the gesture, but _really_.)

The rope goes slack and Peter pulls his hands in front of him.

“Thank you,” he says to Juno distractedly. He traces a finger along the skin on his wrist where the rope pressed against it. “This is incredibly detailed. I’m impressed.”

Juno’s brow furrows. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Peter stands up and considers throwing his arms around Juno. A tingling ache in the bottom of his chest tells him this is a great idea, but he ignores it. His imagination is powerful, but not nearly strong enough to replicate the warm comfort of Juno. He wraps his arms around himself instead.

“I miss you.”

Juno’s face softens. “I missed you too, Nureyev.”

Peter laughs softly and looks away. He tries to ignore how pathetic it is that hearing his name makes his heart flutter. “Who knew I was such a wishful thinker? Juno wouldn’t say that.”

Juno takes half a step back, bewildered. “That’s- What are you talking about?” He seems to come to a conclusion and his face falls. “Oh, _Peter_.” His breath hitches on the last syllable.

Suddenly, Peter is wrapped in Juno’s arms and oh. _Oh_. This is- wow.

Peter is decently taller than Juno, but both of them ignore that fact right now. Peter tucks himself into Juno’s shoulder. He feels some sort of ache in the back of his throat and every part of his body in contact with Juno is warm. One of them is shaking, but Peter isn’t sure if it’s him or Juno. He doesn’t care.

Juno pulls back from the embrace after a few minutes and Peter ignores his disappointment.

“Look, I need to- what I did wasn’t okay, I was scared but I could’ve talked to you or said goodbye or, or left a note or something-“ Words spill out of Juno’s mouth in a way Peter hasn't seen before. As great as all of this was, he-

“Can we talk about this later?” Peter blurts out. Apparently, Peter was no longer capable of any sort of self-control. Excellent. “I just need a minute to...” Peter trails off, gesturing vaguely with his hands when no words come to him. Part of him hates this, hates how he’s actively pushing away his problems, hates how vulnerable he's making himself after everything. He definitely needed to address that at some point.

Now, though...

Now, Peter stood with Juno in a cramped interrogation room, not thinking about anything other than what a good hugger Juno was.

After over a year of taking the exact opposite strategy, it was a nice change of pace.


End file.
